


My Girl

by ProwlingThunder



Series: With the Devil's Own Luck [6]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5429438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life was good, and then it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Girl

The thing about it was, Silas had had a pretty good life, even with all its faults, and when he had woken up that morning and kissed his wife awake, he had expected it to be an easy, carefree day. The weather had been good, all sunshine with white, fluffy clouds; a trip to the park would have been wonderful, healthy. It had been hard to socialize this last year, two lone soldiers and a wee babe in Sanctuary Hills with neighbors who tried to pretend there wasn't a war going on out there, and always, _always_ had things to say behind their backs.

Nora put on a brave, unaffected face, but he had seen her; she didn't go outside without enough foundation to choke a horse, trying to hide her scars to ease their fragile sensibilities. The rest of the veterans, down at the lodge in Concord-- they understood. But people in Sanctuary Hills didn't. Silas was glad for them, honestly, that they could live their lives without worry, even if they couldn't look him in the face without flinching back just a bit, even if they were wrong to think it wasn't serious, it wasn't important. People like them made his hackles rise.

He had gotten off lucky as far as the scarring department went; he had come home, after all. A lot of people hadn't been able to say that, and even more had died of injuries less than his own. And he was a man, so the ropes of keratin tissue were treated like badges of honor among the population, like a prize he had won. But Nora, his Nora, someone had tried to split her skull, and she bore a Glasgow smile from hinge to hinge, and instead of awe she invoked pity and disgust. 

She had been lucky too. His Lady Luck, his _Miss Fortune_. The irony hadn't been lost on him; he had almost asked to take her name instead, but Silas Fortune didn't have quite the same ring to it. Nora King wasn't much better, but she had insisted, and eventually won him over with a smile, a pair of handcuffs, and a purr, _“If I do this, that makes me queen~"_

Nora usually won serious discussions that way.

Fortune hadn't favored her in the Vault. Luck had failed both of them; his wife with a bullet to the head and his son taken from her arms and him, stuck on the inside of a glass coffin, to cold to move, to rage, to scream-- to get _out_ , to _do something_.

It had been cold in Alaska, cold all the way to his marrow, cold enough to steal away life while they rested in their bunks, but it hadn't been the same. And then it had swallowed him again, with a stranger's face outside his window, and--

It wasn't sleeping, exactly. Hibernating might be closer, but his high school science class hadn't hinted it anything like being frozen the way Vault-Tec had frozen them. He had been awake, and not, somehow both, trapped in that one moment like a photograph.

But then Silas had woken up, and his Lady Luck hadn't.


End file.
